


Calvados

by Hansine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hansine/pseuds/Hansine
Summary: Feelings come to pass over a warm glass of apple brandy in a cold night in Fraldarius.“Perhaps you should stay the night. It’s late and it’s cold.” Concern bled into his voice.“Isn’t it always cold in Faerghus, Rodrigue?” She laughed, softly and sweetly.
Relationships: Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	Calvados

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiaPendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiaPendragon/gifts).

> Because who doesn’t need Rodleth in their lives? Titled Calvados because it’s an apple or pear brandy made in Normandy and Rodrigue is a French name. HAH I am so creative.
> 
> Happy (early) birthday Bia <3

Rodrigue watched her work, fascinated at how at home she looked behind the bar. Then again, if her father had anything to do with her experience with alcohol (and it looked like he most certainly did), she moved like an angel. He felt his breath catch at that. He hadn’t thought that way about anyone since— He shook his head, chasing the memories away before they became fully formed. It still hurt a little, even after all these years, but he was learning to cope.

“Here, warmed brandy. Keep the base of the glass in your palm,” she instructed, face blank. If he hadn’t gotten to know her a little bit, he would have found it disconcerting how expressionless she was but he knew better. He could see her wide, doe eyes gleaming softly in the low light, and the smallest uptick of her mouth, full and soft and red and— Rodrigue shook his head again. It was a bad idea to entertain these thoughts.

“Thank you Byleth. You’re good at this.” He smiled gratefully, taking a sip and savoring the crisp, caramelized, smoky, spicy flavor of the drink. “Apple?”

“Very good.” She made her way out from behind the bar, her own glass settled comfortably in her had, the wide rim of the tulip glass letting the aroma dissipate.

Rodrigue tilted his head slightly before moving to the chaise, shoulders relaxing when he heard her soft footsteps behind him.

He wasn’t sure when they started to grow closer. Byleth was his son’s teacher and he knew Felix had some sort of schoolboy crush on her. He chalked it up to Byleth’s strength and skill, and it was that. His son had become more focused, more singularly dedicated to making himself stronger and beating Byleth. When he finally did, her allure faded and his fascination seemed to shift itself to the Dominic girl, Annette her name was if he remembered correctly. She looked good for him, if Felix’s secret smiles and slightly reddened cheeks were any indication.

“Anything I can help you with? I’d like to think I’m good at that.”

Her soft voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

What was she now to him? She was no longer teaching Felix and their meetings were far too late into the night to be anything else but personal rather than a polite social call.

“Ah, I was just thinking about Felix.” He laughed softly, lifting his glass to take another sip, a silly attempt to hide the blush creeping up on his face. He could at least blame the alcohol, even if he wasn’t anywhere bordering tipsy.

“How is he, by the way?” He caught the unique lilt in her voice and the slight tilt of her head.

“Well.” He took another sip, his eyes half-lidded now. He should remember to ask her where she got the apple brandy. It wasn’t anything like he’d ever had before. “And you? I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

“Tired. I’ve been traveling for a while and it’s nice to not have to for some time.”

Rodrigue wondered if he felt the tips of her fingers brush his knee ever so briefly, and if Byleth was getting dizzy. She seemed to be leaning forward.

“Are you alright?” His eyes crossed slightly, gaze landing on the bridge of her nose. He was sure her tolerance for alcohol was high and it made no sense for her to be red either, unless the light from the fire gave her skin an ethereal cast.

“Tired, is all. Nothing to worry about.” She sipped the last of her brandy, eyes looking down like she was embarrassed. He wondered what on earth was making her squirm, the slight tremor of her shoulders giving it away.

“Perhaps you should stay the night. It’s late and it’s cold.” Concern bled into his voice.

“Isn’t it always cold in Faerghus, Rodrigue?” She laughed, softly and sweetly.

He chuckled nervously, finishing off the remains of the brandy before leaning forward, setting his glass down on the coffee table. Rodrigue almost jumped back when he raised his head, Byleth’s own so very close to his and all he could focus on were her lips and how he very much wanted to kiss them. His heart nearly stopped at the thought, the first fully formed one ever since he had become aware of his slowly burgeoning feelings for the young woman beside him.

She was accomplished, talented, and graceful in the battlefield. Her skin was smooth and unimaginably soft, lips red and full and he could imagine a delight. Her voice was quiet but firm, eyes steely, determined, and impossibly expressive if you learned how to read them correctly. The last thing he saw was the green of them, like fresh spring leaves he so rarely saw but treasured, before his eyes fell shut and his traitor of a body responded to a tongue gently probing and the delightful buzz of brandy spreading in his mouth.

It was a few moments of heat until he jolted, his hands soft but firm on her shoulders as he pushed her away.

“Byleth…”

It hurt him more than he’d ever thought possible to see her tear rimmed eyes. It felt like someone stabbed him right through the heart when she stood, indignant, fuming.

“It appears I have overstayed my welcome. No need to see me out. Good evening, Duke Fraldarius.” 

Rodrigue never hated his title more than at that moment.

Byleth spun on her heels and began to move away, only to be held back by a warm hand on her wrist, dropping her empty glass on the carpet. The dull thud was loud in the silence of the room, the crackling fire an ill-humored accompaniment.

“I…”

She turned, staring at him.

“I’m sorry. I…” He hung his head low, heaving a sigh. “Please.”

Her body relaxed as she eased out of his grip. He shivered when he felt her touch trail from the sides of his arms all the way to his face, gently cupping it.

“Why? You’re young and smart and talented and beautiful. You can have anyone in the world and they’ll be lucky to have you.” Rodrigue tilted his head slightly to kiss her left palm, the hand connected to the heart, before leaning into her touch. “Why on earth would you have me?”

Byleth shrugged, smiling. Beatifically, in Rodrigue’s humble opinion.

“Why not? Everyone deserves to be happy.” She settled herself comfortably on his lap, knees pressing gently against his hips. “I know you feel guilty, I know it’s painful but… can’t I ease some of it?”

For the first time, he saw Byleth baring her soul. He could see her slight frown, how she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, the faint pink all over her face. He could hear the sadness and empathy in her voice. He could feel the warmth of her hands and the solidness of her presence.

“I still love her,” he murmured quietly, wanting to look down but forced himself to keep his eyes on her.

“I know. I’ll never ask you to stop loving her.” Byleth pressed her forehead against his.

“But somehow along the way, I also fell in love with you.”

His hands settled on her waist, steadying her, as he lifted his head and kissed her. He felt her stiffen in surprise and then melt into him, her mouth opening obediently when he pushed lightly against the seam of her lips.

.

.

.

.

They raced up the stairs hand in hand, like lovestruck teenagers, and stumbled through the dimly hallways furiously kissing each other, one set of hands undoing buttons or clasps, the other pair pushing impatiently. It felt like an eternity when they finally reached his room, both of them gasping for air in the short while they separated from each other.

“Byleth…” Rodrigue groaned, knees growing weak, as her arms wrapped around him from behind, her fingers deftly undoing the knots and buckles that kept his trousers on. His hands shook as he reached out for the knob, pressing his forehead against the door in a meager attempt to steady himself (at least long enough to turn the lock).

“Hmmm?” She hummed, moving one hand up, beneath his shirt this time, to trace the muscles of his abdomen, the other still toying with his waistband.

Rodrigue twisted in her hold before grabbing her hands, Byleth’s expression souring, like her favorite toy was just taken away.

“Patience.”

He felt her squirm against him.

“I’ll let your hands go, if you promise to be a good girl for me alright?”

Byleth nodded, slowly wrapping her arms around Rodrigue’s neck when his grip loosened. His hands slid along her back gently, fingers pressing lightly against the dip of her spine, squeezing her backside along the way, before finally resting on the backs of her thighs. Without warning, he lifted her up and guided her legs to wrap around his waist.

“Now, where were we?” His eyes flashed and all the tension in his face was gone, like years had suddenly fallen away.

.

.

.

.

Rodrigue watched Byleth sleep, one of her arms draped across him, his fingers gently combing through her hair. She looked so otherworldly, bathed in moonlight, the sheets just barely managing to preserve her modesty.

“What did I do to ever get this lucky…” he murmured, hand moving now to cup her cheek gently.

“Rodrigue…?” Her voice was hoarse and he felt a stab of pride at that, despite the machismo of his reaction.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he asked quietly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Come sleep, my love. It’s cold without you,” she whispered, placing her hand on top of his.

He inhaled sharply, surprised at the diminutive.

“Rodrigue?” He could hear the worry in her voice, like she said something wrong.

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking about something.” He shook his head, shuffling down and pulling Byleth closer to him.

“What?” She placed her head on his chest, snuggling closer as he wrapped an arm around her bare shoulders.

“How blessed I am. How much you mean to me. How much I love you, my heart.”

Byleth smiled into his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> And that, my friends, is a Rodleth fic I didn’t expect to write in three hours, LOL. I am happy with it and I hope you guys like it too!
> 
> Your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


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